Compliment, but don't flatter.

The old saying has it that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Yet, from the adjectives that we often apply to it -shameless, shallow, base, empty- it is clear we consider flattery anything but sincere.

This is as true in architecture as in office politics. The original New York City skyline is revered; Las Vegas' derivative New York New York Hotel and Casino is quickly forgotten.

An emphasis on the sincere is part of the philosophy that I bring to all of my design projects. As an architect in New York City, it would be irresponsible of me to overlook the complex relationships my newly built designs will have with nearby existing structures. It would be equally irresponsible to engage in empty flattery or imitation of those structures.

New York City is about different people living together in close proximity. Different races and cultures share the buildings, the streets, the subways. A city is not about everything being the same, or even every community being the same within its own borders.

Buildings are like people in this way. We have all these different kinds of buildings and they all work together to create a spectacular collective. Sometimes the work together by being very different from one another.

This fact is often overlooked when new and modern buildings are proposed for older neighborhoods which have seen little development in recent years. I understand why some people would protest the construction of a new building on their street. It represents the unknown.

What will it look like? What kind of people will live there? How will it affect me? All of these questions are asked but cannot really be answered until many months later, when the project is completed and occupied. Unanswered questions naturally lead to fear, and then to opposition towards any new construction.

Yet, buildings will be built and in fact must be, given the growing unmet needs of this city's population. In many areas, zoning also permits -and economics demand--that new buildings be higher than their existing neighbors.

Rather than engage change in a hopeless, unconditional fight, I would encourage people to find ways of mediating with it, of making it sensitive to their desires. In architecture, we do this by creating buildings that may have some contrasts with their surroundings, but that also subtly engage and complement them.

The contrasts may come from the height and the introduction of materials and forms not typical of the neighborhood.

The effort to engage may mean also using the more familiar brick and masonry, especially in the lower floors. It could mean lining up the strongest horizontal lines in the new facade with the cornices of the neighboring buildings. And, it often implies using setbacks to create a cushion of open space, light and air around the new building.

Devout preservationists share the idea that preservation must also allow progress. When he accepted his post as Chair of the city's Landmarks Preservation Commission, Robert B. Tierney appropriately said that "The Commission's mission to safeguard this City's unique historic, aesthetic and cultural heritage has never been more vital."

However, he also said, "At the same time, we must press forward to develop what the Mayor has aptly called the 'landmarks of the future'. I hope to lead the Landmarks Preservation Commission in a way that connects the City's rich heritage to an ever brighter and developing future."

What Mr. Tierney says seems perfectly correct to me. Let us create new buildings that respond to the past but also fulfill all the possibilities of the future. And, let us live our imagination, not our history.